


No End, Only Beginnings

by erunamiryene



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Spoilers, TLJ Spoilers, You Can't Say I Didn't Warn You, there are spoilers in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13105557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erunamiryene/pseuds/erunamiryene
Summary: If I'm not going to get Anakin and Padme in the sequel trilogy on the big screen, I'll simply write it myself. A collection of ficlets involving various members of the Skywalker clan, all during the sequel trilogy. Updated now and then, when I think of something I simplyhaveto write.





	No End, Only Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very handwave-y about how the afterlife works, and I'm a-okay with that.

Luke Skywalker has been many things. An unwilling farmer. A pilot. A student and a master. 

A brother, a son. A nephew, an uncle.

A hand extended in love and hope, waiting to see if it would be taken. A hand raised in anger and fear, his greatest shame.

A legend.

But now, Luke Skywalker is simply … Luke Skywalker. All of these things, and none of them.

He settles himself on the large flat rock overlooking the water, gazing off into the distance, heedless of the cool sea breeze on his face. A ghost of a smile touches the corner of his mouth; Rey had reached out with her hand in their first lesson, grinning sheepishly when she'd realized what he meant. More than once, she’d reminded him of himself, a Luke from times that seem little more than distant memories now.

He breathes deeply. Stretches out.

The Force is muted at first, of course. When you shut it away, it’s not like a door you can open; it’s more … making your way down a foggy path as the sun rises. The longer you walk, the more clear the path becomes, until you can see everything around you, until the big picture resolves and you marvel at both its complexity and its simplicity.

He turns his attention to Crait, so far across the vast galaxy and yet so close in how the Force flows through all things.

To Leia, and to his nephew. 

*

The Force was mysterious enough when she was alive, but since she died … well, Padme knows that she and Anakin are together, they’ve been able to watch their children grow, see their triumphs and failures, and that’s more than enough for Padme Naberrie Skywalker, thank you very much. She’ll leave teasing out the mysteries of the universe to the Jedi (who seem to be more than happy to endlessly discuss them).

She finds Anakin standing, watching, brow furrowed; a gentle touch to his elbow before she wraps an arm around his. “What is it?”

“Luke.”

She looks … waits … and things come into focus. The brilliantly emerald isle where their tenderhearted son sequestered himself, fighting a losing battle against guilt and failure, surrounded by a sea as blue as a Shoroni sapphire. He’s easy to find, there on Ahch-To; the Force, for so long less than a whisper in him, is brilliant, shining like the sun. 

“Padme, he’s ….”

Anakin trails off, and she follows his eyeline again. This second picture resolves into a planet of pure white, marred by blood red slashes. Fear and fierce determination matched against unrelenting hatred and violence. Within is Leia, so like her father (Anakin could, and has, argued against this many times) in her fearless pursuit of justice and freedom, in her fire and gumption. Her sorrow – for her planet, for her husband, for her son, for her brother, for her cause – has echoed through the Force for decades, a seeming unending dirge underscoring her bravery and relentlessness, and Padme lives for those times when she smiles, when the shadows are chased from her eyes.

Today is not one of those times.

Movement catches her eye, and her arm tightens on Anakin’s. “Anakin, how – but that’s Luke.”

“Force projection.” 

They watch in silence as Luke and Leia exchange quiet words, clasp hands, touch foreheads. As it becomes more and more apparent that Luke came to save what’s left of the Resistance at the cost of his own life, is here to say goodbye to his sister, Padme draws a short, ragged breath. “Oh, no. Luke.”

Anakin can’t banish the image of a collapsing brown robe in his mind’s eye.

As Luke makes his way out of the base, Threepio bids him farewell, and Anakin stiffens.

“What is it?” Padme looks from the tableau in front of them to her husband, staring even more intently now. “Anakin?”

“Padme, a Force projection … a droid shouldn’t be able to see it. Threepio shouldn’t even have known he was there.” Anakin stares openmouthed, looking from the serene Luke on Ahch-To to the serene Luke now facing down the might of the First Order. “Padme, look at our son,” he whispers with no small amount of awe, shaking her arm just a little as he points. “Look what he can _do_.”

*

The walkers may as well not even be there; for all intents and purposes, Luke and Ben are the only two standing on the blinding surface of Crait. Everything disappears in red as every gun fires at him; he stares out over the water, at the ever-setting suns, and waits.

Ben will come, eventually.

When the dust settles, a black-clad figure stalks toward Luke.

*

Kylo Ren – Luke’s very own Darth Vader, Anakin thinks with a tinge of bitterness – tosses his cloak aside. “He certainly is a Skywalker,” Padme murmurs, a hint of amusement in her words. A storm of emotion roils within him, prodded to greater heights with no accompanying control, and his hatred for Luke is crystalline, undeniable. At this moment, it’s all Kylo cares about. It’s all he can see. If he never gets anything else in this life, he will see his traitorous uncle dead at his feet. And then Snoke will see, from wherever his poisoned, withered soul went, who is powerful. He will see who deserves to rule. 

He will see who is _worthy_. 

“It won’t change things,” Anakin murmurs as the duel unfolds, and Padme is sure he’s not aware he’s even talking. “Getting what you want, it won’t change anything, Ben.”

*

Luke on Crait disappears.

Luke on Ahch-To collapses.

Padme’s indrawn breath is somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

“Padme.” Anakin’s voice is quiet in her ear as he lays his other hand over hers. “All that turmoil that’s been in Luke, it’s gone.”

She turns deep brown eyes back to Ahch-To even as they shimmer with tears. “I know. But Leia will be heartbroken, and she’s been through so much already, my poor girl."

He nods. “Yes. But she’s resilient, like you. She does her duty far better than I ever did. She understands.”

On Ahch-To, the sea breeze blows brown and cream robes off the flat stone.

*

The first thing Luke sees is a familiar face: his father, grinning to beat the band. “Luke! That was -” He gestures, looking for the appropriate superlative. “That was incredible!”

“I just did what I had to do,” Luke says, almost sheepish. “The Resistance needed the time.”

Anakin nods, more serious, pride still clear on his face. “You always have, haven’t you? You’ve always done what has to be done.” 

Next to Anakin is a short woman with elaborately braided hair; _Leia?_ almost comes out of Luke’s mouth before he can stop it, but no, Leia is still back on Crait … or more accurately, on the Falcon, leaving the First Order and its leader behind. That means that this woman, so like Leia, can only be –

“Mom?”

Her eyes shining, the woman opens her arms. “My son,” she says, hoarse.


End file.
